


Karma

by LearnedFoot



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearnedFoot/pseuds/LearnedFoot
Summary: He’s a ghost, or something like it. And he’s stuck inside Dum-E.
Relationships: Dummy (Iron Man movies) & Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 89
Collections: What Fen Do (Instead of Going Outside)





	Karma

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fencesit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencesit/gifts).



> Dum-E is neither garbage tier nor a magic object, and yet, this is what the freeform "Garbage-Tier Magical Item Which Some Poor Demon Or Ghost Has Possessed" combined with Tony & Stark Robots inspired. I hope you enjoy this fever dream of a fic that I wrote because I have no self-control at all.
> 
> Please roll with my handwaved understanding of how Dum-E, ghosts, and logic work.

Tony did not expect the afterlife to look like his garage lab.

Tony also did not expect the afterlife to look like Pepper and Rhodey putting things in boxes, shoulders slumped and faces long. He didn’t expect it to feel like being stuck in one place, body rigid and not fitting right, or like Pepper’s fingers gliding up his—back? Is back the right word? None of his parts seem to be in place, and also, why can’t he see his hands? He tries to look down. It’s a jerky, difficult movement, but he manages to spot his feet.

No, not feet. Wheels.

 _What the_ —

That’s as far as he gets before he’s powered off.

***

He comes back to life—such that it is—in a small lab. It looks like it’s in a basement somewhere. Rhodey is staring at him. He stares back.

“Hi,” he tries to say. It comes out a beep.

“Hey, bud,” Rhodey replies, reaching out to pat his—head? It feels like his head, anyway. “Tony left you to me. I think he knew I’d feel too guilty to junk you, but I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do with you. So just hang tight here for now, okay?” He shakes his head as he stands. “Talking to a robot. I’m turning into him.”

Tony can’t remember his will. He left a lot of things to a lot of people, and it’s not like he paid much attention when he wrote it. But he’s a smart guy, it’s not hard to put these particular clues together.

He’s a ghost, or something like it. And he’s stuck inside Dum-E.

Of course he is. That’s his kind of luck.

The good news is, he’s pretty sure that means this isn’t the afterlife. At least, not all the way. Ghosts are people with unfinished business, right? That’s how it normally went in the horror movies Pepper, surprisingly, loved. And the thing is, Tony’s business is finished, except for the part where he didn’t actually _want_ to die. So if he’s still here, ipso facto, the reason must be to figure out how to not be dead anymore.

Or maybe the entire premise is wrong. Maybe it has nothing to do with unfinished business. Maybe this is a quirk of using the stones, consciousness accidentally lingering. Either way—same goal. If he’s still here, he can still think, and if he can still think, he can get out of this particular tricky situation. Wouldn’t be the first time he saved himself with nothing but his mind and a few spare tools. 

“But why Dum-E?” he muses out loud. It still sounds like beeps. There are definitely some movies where ghosts get stuck in non-sentient objects, but Dum-E isn’t exactly non-sentient. Maybe this is more like a possession, then? Problem is, that never seems like much fun for the possessed. “Sorry, bud. I didn’t mean to.”

To his surprise, he gets a response—not words, exactly, but a soft tickle through his limbs, such that they are, a mechanical caress via wires and metal, warm and accepting. _It’s okay_ , it seems to say. _There’s room for both of us_.

“You’re the best. An absolute gem. I take back every bad thing I ever said to you.” He can feel Dum-E buzz at the praise, like an overeager puppy being tossed a bone. “So, how about you and me figure out how to get me—”

And then his consciousness starts to flicker out. God damn it, Rhodey put him on sleep mode.

***

When he wakes up, Peter Parker’s face is inches away.

“Whoa, Colonel Rhodes, this is _so cool_ ,” he gushes. His breath is so close it fogs up the mini cameras that currently function as Tony’s eyes, which is highly disorienting. “I really though he was lost by now.”

“Nah. Tony had that thing since he was your age.” Rhodey sounds amused. “He’s not going anywhere. In fact, I was thinking you could have him, once you get a place that’s big enough.”

Peter’s face does a number of things Tony can’t entirely read before settling on disbelief. “Really?”

“One condition: you start calling me Rhodey. This Colonel Rhodes bullshit makes me feel like I should tell you to stand up straight and respect your elders, and neither of us wants that.”

Peter laughs, still totally focused on Tony. Well, Dum-E. “Rhodey. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s what Tony would want.”

Tony tilts his head to look at Rhodey. He’s smiling the soft smile he normally reserves for his nephews. If Tony had a heart right now, it would go pitter-patter.

“Told you you’d like the kid if you got to know him,” he says, even though it’s useless. Beep-boop, boop-beep. He wonders how many important messages from Dum-E he’s dismissed over the years.

Peter finally turns away and jumps to his feet. “Still, thank you. It means a lot. But I’m not going to be able to take him for like…a long time? May would flip out.”

Rhodey tosses Peter what appears to be a set of keys; they jangle as he catches them without looking. “You’re welcome anytime. This place has just been sitting here for a year.”

“Anytime?” Peter repeats. He looks like he can’t believe his luck. “Seriously?”

“Someone should use it, price I’m paying. Do you have any idea how expensive renting lab space in New York City is?” Rhodey glances at his watch. “Okay, we need to get out of here. You do _not_ want to see how Pepper gets if we show up late to dinner.” 

“I’m not worried," Peter says as they head for the door. “She’s always nice to me.”

“That’s because you’ve got those big doe eyes. Makes it hard to yell at you. You’re coddled, really.” Sadly, Rhodey hits the lights before Tony can see Peter’s reaction to being told he has doe eyes.

Tony doesn’t have much time to think before he shuts down again. But he uses what he has to come up with a plan.

***

Step one of the plan relies on Peter booting Dum-E back on. Done. Tony has no idea how much time has passed, but Peter’s hair looks the same—a little on the long side, flopping into his face whenever he ducks his head forward—so he’s guessing it’s only been a few days, weeks at the most. No surprise there; there’s no way Peter would pass up the opportunity to mess around in a lab for long.

Step two of the plan relies on Tony being able to pick up a pen and write. That step doesn’t go so well.

“Dum-E, no!” Peter exclaims when Tony knocks over a jar of pens for the second time in ten minutes. Tony goes after one just as Peter kneels to pick them up, the end result being he thwacks Peter and doesn’t get a pen. Shit.

Peter stands, rubbing his head and clearly trying very hard not to look resentful. He grabs Tony and starts rolling him backwards.

“I know you’ve been offline for a while,” he says, with far more understanding than Tony would have in this situation. “You’re probably just getting used to being back on. But for now, let’s keep you over here.” He kicks the lock on Tony’s feet— _wheels_ , they’re _wheels_ , this is still weird—and pats his neck. “‘K bud? We’ll work up to helping out.”

Tony makes an attempt to grab his shoulder. Maybe if he can just squeeze it, all mentorly and confident—

Nope. He looks like a crazed bot on the fritz. Peter hops out of the way of his wildly swinging arm, yelling, “Whoa, whoa! Okay, okay, I’m gonna shut you down for now. It’s okay, just rest—”

Fuck.

***

Attempt two, Tony plays it cool. Much more cooperative. He’s good enough that Peter even hands him a broom. He tries to use it to brush “Help” into the dirt on the floor, but all that gets him is an extremely cute and inaccurate lesson about how to sweep better. Then he gets impatient and goes for the pens again, which winds up with him back in the corner.

 _I was too hard on you_ , Tony thinks into himself, reaching toward the constant companion that is Dum-E. He gets vigorous agreement in return. Even his own bot won’t cut him some slack in the afterlife.

“Is this karma? I feel like this is some weird karma,” he says out loud. Beep, beep, boop. “You’d think saving the world would bala—”

It hits him. Beep, beep, boop. _Beep, beep, boop_.

He can’t talk, but that doesn’t mean he can’t communicate.

  
***

It takes some practicing, chattering to himself in the corner as Peter works, but Tony figures out his tonal range. It’s not much— _sorry_ , he internally apologizes again—but it is enough to sing the dum-dum-dum of “Iron Man.”

A little on the nose, sure, but now is not the time for subtlety.

 _Beep-boop-beep-boop-boop_ he goes, in his best Black Sabbath impression. _Boop-ba-boop-ba-boop-beep-boop-boop-boop_. And again, and again, over and over.

It takes a while, but Peter catches on, humming along without realizing. He keeps not realizing, and not realizing, and—

His head snaps up from his work.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he says, leaping across the room to stand in front of Tony. “Do that again.”

Tony does it again.

“Whoa,” Peter says. Then he whips out his phone. “Colonel Rhodes, you’re going to want to see this.”

***

Peter thinks Dum-E has reached a new level of intelligence, as he explains in an excited ramble when Rhodey shows up.

 _As if_ , Tony thinks, only to get a huff in reply. Okay, fair, that was mean. Maybe Dum-E could’ve learned to sing on his own if Tony had been more encouraging. He promises he’ll do better once he gets out of this. If he gets out of this.

No. _When_. He’s going to get out of this, and it’s going to happen now.

Show time.

He sings the song. He sings it again. Rhodey hums along.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “that’s ‘Iron Man’ alright.”

“Has he ever done that before?” Peter asks. “I don’t think he ever did when I was in the lab with Mr. Stark, but you’ve known him a lot longer…”

“No, Tony would’ve never shut up about it.” Rhodey gets closer, clearly interested. “Still learning, after all this time. Good on you, Dum-E.”

Okay, okay. Now is the moment to shoot his real shot: the one bit of Morse code he actually remembers from all the times Rhodey tried to shove it down his throat.

 _S-O-S_ , he beeps in dashes and dots. _S-O-S_ , _H-B_.

Rhodey starts back, surprised. Yeah, that’s it, now you’re getting it. SOS, Honey Bear. Come on, he’s gotta remember.

 _S-O-S_ , Tony repeats. _S-O-S_ , _S-O-S_. So much beeping, he’s making his own non-existent head hurt. _S-O-S_ , _H-B_.

Come on, come on—

 _S.O.S.!_ he beeps as loud as he possibly can. _S.O.S.!_

“Holy shit,” Rhodey breathes, drawing back.

“What? What is it?” Peter clearly has not gotten the Morse code lecture yet.

“I—I’m not sure.” But Rhodey’s eyes are wide. He knows. He doesn’t believe yet, but he knows. “But we should call Strange.”

***

Strange contemplates him for a long time, waving his hands and looking like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He disappears into his portal and comes back with a different ancient book four separate times. He contemplates some more.

Eventually, he says. “Huh. I don’t believe it.” 

***

“Wow,” Rhodey says when Strange very accurately sums up the situation.

Peter doesn’t talk at all. He just stares and stares until Rhodey asks if he’s okay. Then he nods and stares some more.

“We can get him out, right?” he eventually asks, voice so thin it’s almost inaudible.

“Give me a few days,” Strange concludes. “But I have an idea.”

***

Peter comes back that night, dressed in the Spider-suit, clearly fresh off patrolling. He curls up at Tony’s base and sobs.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize,” he gasps out between hiccups. “You were trying to get my attention, weren’t you? I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I’m so sorry.”

This time, when Tony goes to squeeze his shoulder, Peter lets him.

***

Strange’s solution is to shove him into a computer.

“It’s just temporary,” Rhodey explains, using a slightly-too-loud, slightly-too-slow tone, as if he’s talking to a small child. “Until we can figure out a more permanent body.”

“This way you can help!” Peter adds. It’s taken a week, but he no longer looks like he’s going to burst into tears every time he’s in the room. “We’ve got it hooked up to a voice emulator that sounds kinda like you, and, and…” He bounces on his toes. “I can’t wait to talk to you, Mr. Stark!”

“Back ‘atcha, kid,” Tony beeps. Whatever. He can tell him in person soon. Er, in computer. Close enough.

“The spell won’t work if you try to cling to your former vessel,” Strange says, talking over Peter’s flustered squeak at Tony’s response. Tony will give Strange this: unlike the rest of them, he’s taking this whole thing in complete stride. “Do you assent?” 

Oh, Tony assents. Tony super assents.

“Beep-boop,” he says with a nod. Beep-boop, indeed.

***

Being in a computer is trippy as fuck. Being in a semi-organic synthesized body, on the other hand?

Badass.

***

“So, why Dum-E?” he asks Strange months later, after everything settles down and the wizard actually, improbably, agrees to a drink (“One, Tony. Some of us have things to do.”)

Strange shrugs. “Experiences like yours are incredibly rare. Too rare to know for sure. But my best guess? It’s possible for a semi-sentient non-organic object to become so entwined with a living creature that it acts as an anchor, tethering the living mind to this Earth. Combine that with a traumatic death, and—well, here you are.”

“Huh,” Tony says. “Imagine that.”

***

Tony builds a whole new lab, making sure every part is Dum-E accessible.

And he never calls him stupid again.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback is loved <3
> 
> Also, I went completely insane with this exchange and wrote about 20k in a week. Please, _please_ point out the inevitable typos that made it through. I promise I will be grateful, not annoyed.


End file.
